


Dance Like No One Is Watching

by NatsukiLeeRkoLover



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Dancing, I miss wade barrett so fuck you thats why hes here, M/M, Swearing, bathrooms in the clubs aren't for peeing lbh, clubs, handjobs, if you squint theres mcshield, rolleigns - Freeform, sheamus and cesaro are husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 16:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18528430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatsukiLeeRkoLover/pseuds/NatsukiLeeRkoLover
Summary: Drew likes to go to the club. He just doesn't dance. Because like Wade likes to remind him, he can't. He has two left feet.But you know, he's not the only one.





	Dance Like No One Is Watching

**Author's Note:**

> (If you squint there mcshield)  
> I've been in such a Drew Mcintyre kick this week. Cannot stop with him apparently.
> 
> I wrote and edited this on my phone so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Drew goes to clubs and parties but doesn't really dance. Well, he can’t dance. He prefered to watch the dance floor, instead. The movement, hips swishing back and forth, the flow of long hair whipping and bouncing with the movements of sweaty bodies. He much rather drink his whiskey and people watch, anyway, amused by how comical it actually was- bodies thrusting and twirling together like some manic mating ritual.

  
That night was no difference. Drew sat beside his best friend Sheamus, who was laughing along to something the his husband had said in his ear. Drew never felt like the 3rd wheel with them. But that's usually because Wade Barrett would be with them, teasing Sheamus and Cesaro with cat calls and winks when the married men would get too friskey. But tonight Wade was off god knows where, trying to pick up some chick near the bar. Drew was sure Wade was succeeding. The English accent usually did the job here in the states. Though, Drew could say he found the Scottish accent worked just as well.

  
He twirled the glass of whiskey in his hand, the liquid sloshing around the large ball of ice. He was a little bored. The scenery was becoming entirely predictable after years of frequenting the same club with his friends. But he came along because they did. They didn't dance, there was just something about the music vibrating the walls that felt good. The latin beats had bodies pulsing, and the people dancing in the center of the club pressed together, skin touching skin. The glitter of lights on the sweet perspiration made the sight magical.

  
Even Drew nodded his head, feeling the energy flow into him.

  
Then, off to the corner of his eye, the sight of something off caught his eye. He looked over to see a man disturbing the rhythmic beats that everyone else danced to. This guy was completely off beat. He stuck out like a sore thumb.

  
But, glancing around, Drew was sure he was the only one who thought that, or at least the only one who seemed to care enough to watch.

  
The man was in his own zone, feet shuffling and shoulders shimmying like he had a different song playing in his mind. When the muscled body turned around so Drew could get a look at the face, he couldn't help laugh. The man had this small goofy smile hidden in a trimmed thick dark beard. His eyes were closed, feeling the same energy Drew had been feeling.

The man was handsome, burly in a cute way. Like a smiley puppy, wagging his tail. The twinkle of an earring made Drew quirk a brow. Oh? Drew was intrigued already but somehow the little piece of jewellery made it stronger.

The uncoordinated man opened his eyes and reached for the hand of another man nearby. Perhaps a boyfriend, Drew thought, a bit disappointed.

The other man was equally handsome, also bearded but with long curly hair, similar to Drew's. So maybe Drew could be his type?

The new guy spun the offbeat beauty, who shook his hips in his denim jeans. He spun back and landed against his ...boyfriend?... with so much force that they started laughing. It made Drew's lips twitch up despite himself.

Drew took a sip of his whiskey, trying to look anywhere else. But after a few minutes of scanning the rest of the dancing bodies, he found his blue eyes landing on the man again, seeing that he had blue eyes too, bright and reflecting the colorful lights of the club. Another man had joined them. This one was bigger, thick and muscular, hair tied in a low bun and a thick chain around his neck highlighted the tattoo that ran down his right arm. Also beautiful.

Three beautiful men dancing around, but the first still caught his eye, because he was not a good dancer at all. And somehow that was endearing.

The appearance of the third man made it pretty obvious that the first and second man were not dating, because currently man number 2 and number 3 were grinding into each other, lips attached and hungrily devouring one another. Man number 1, his favorite of the three, just closed his eyes again and moved around to the continuous bouncing beat. He was sweating from all the dancing and Drew couldn't help wonder how it would taste to run his tongue up that muscular back.

“You might as well go out there and fuck him on the dance floor the way you're looking at him.”

Drew tore his eyes away and lifted them to his good friend. “Pretty sure that would get me kicked in the nuts and kicked out of the club, Barrett,” he said dryly. He sipped his drink again. Wade sat down in the armchair beside him and lounged back. “No luck?” Drew asked.

Wade smirked. “No. All the luck. She's probably leaving the bathroom now.”

Drew grimaced. “Disgusting. At least tell me you got her name.”

Wade pursed his lips and shrugged.

Drew shook his head and moved his eyes back to the man who he just couldn't stop watching. Like a trainwreck.

“Will you please go out there and ask the guy to dance with you. You're starting to look creepy.”

Drew could hear Sheamus and Cesaro chuckled over the din of the music. Normally, he would flip them all off, but he wasn't in the mood. He was too enthralled with the sight of the man raise his hands over his head, spinning around in a circle. His muscles flexed, giving Drew lip his lip.

His friends were still making out, not that he seemed to care, nor did Drew.

“I don't dance,” Drew reminded his friend, not sparing him a glance.

“No, you can't dance,” Wade chuckled. “Big difference.”

Drew did flip him off this time. “Fine, I can't dance.”

“And neither can he, poor soul.”

Drew rolled his eyes. He couldn't say Wade was wrong. This man couldn't hold a steady beat to save a life. But, as Wade liked to remind him, neither could Drew.

Drew was sure Wade had lost his mind. Drew would never embarrass himself by trying to dance. It wasn't his thing. … Though the beat was infectious. And it did look fun.

Just as he was telling himself to not be stupid -because he was legitimately thinking about it, the man dancing opened his eyes again, but this time he was facing Drew and immediately their eyes locked together.

The man's eyes were wide and a little crazy with energy. It was both frightening and attractive. The eye contact didn't stop the man's offbeat shimmying shoulders.

A smirk pulled at the man's pouty lips, sexy and inviting. Drew lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips trying to distract himself from the urge he had to kiss the lips of a man he didn't know. He groaned a little when nothing was left in the glass but the melting ice. Dammit, not that whiskey would help, but his throat was dry and the eyes on him haven't left him yet, making Drew thirstier than he's ever felt before.

The man titled his head back, lowering his eyes to look at Drew still. The arms he had bent at his sides, unclenched their fists, and long knobby fingers crooked at Drew, calling for him, telling him to come to him.

Was Drew crazy?

Apparently, he was, because with eyes that never let the man's, Drew stalked over through the other bodies dancing around the floor. The closer he got the more beautiful this man was. Rosey cheeks, a dimple, a reddish tint to that beard. His equally nice looking friends watched him with curious eyes, he could feel it.

Guess Drew really would embarrass himself. This man was doing something to him.

Fuck it. He was Drew McIntyre and he made anything look good, even 2 left feet.

The second he was close enough, the man took his hand, lifting it up some so they could keep a few inches between them as he danced.

Drew didn't dance right away. Then he realized he had to do something so he didn't look like an idiot, he started to shuffle from one foot to the other.

He watched the man, who was still holding his hand, with interest. And the man just smirked at him, dancing to the music like nothing had changed.

“Lighten up man,” he said, drawing his face close to Drew's. “You gotta just dance like noone is watching. ...Even when someone is.”

The man gave him a pointed look and Drew… smiled. He rolled his eyes at himself and nodded to the man. Drew let himself relax and let the beat take him over, tightening his hand around the rough hand of his dance partner. The heat coming off the man in front of him coated Drew like a comfortable blanket in the coldest nights of New York.

A high pitched guitar melody made people cheer around him, the tune like cursive writing, flowing lightly. Feet and hips moved around to match it. Then the deep bass beat joined in. The beat, the guitar, the movement around them and the fact that this interesting man was dancing with him made Drew's head swim and he relaxed even more, dancing to the music.

The man chuckled. They both were offbeat and uncoordinated but it was fun. Drew chuckled too.

The laugh was caught in his throat when the other man pulled him in with a roughness one would need to be able to move a big man like Drew.

Their chests bumped into each other and their movements blended together, dancing as one. Bodies swayed back and forth unpredictably, but their bodies didn't need warning as to how to move together, they just knew.

They danced to their own beat.

Like no one was watching.

And they danced for a while, a couple songs straight until the man's friends tapped the man's shoulder. The shorter one leaned in and said something in his ear and pointed to the bar. The man nodded and looked back at Drew, half-lidded eyes calm and beautiful.

“Wanna get a drink?” the man yelled over the music to Drew.

Drew didn't respond verbally, just pulled back ready to walk over to the bar with the man. But the man pulled him back with the hand they still held laced together.

The man leaned forward, his other hand going up to hold Drew's head in place. Drew usually was the one to initiate first, but the hand on the side of his head was strong and didn't feel all that bad. The man leaned the rest of the way and their lips pressed together.

There was no gentle about it. It was hard, bruising, and wet. Teeth clashed and Drew slipped his tongue in this man's mouth, wanting to taste more. This man tasted like cigarettes and something sweet, like candy. It made Drew moan.

They pulled apart only to go back in for more once they had filled their lungs back up with oxygen. They weren't dancing anymore, their mouths moved enough for them. Ironically, their mouths moved in time with the slow latin beat, doing what their feet couldn't manage.

Before Drew could let the fog clear from his mind, he felt the hard press of the man's erection against his thigh.

Drew growled, he pulled away and tugged the man behind him as he moved through people to the back of the club to the bathrooms.

The men's bathroom was always empty, and Drew couldn't be happier when he shoved the man into a stall and locked it behind him.

The man smirked at him and Drew dove back in wanting to suck that smirk into him.  He wanted to devour this man. He was completely dizzy with how this man drew him in. He trapped the man against the metal divider, an arm on each side of the man's head.

In the new light he could better see the red brown tint of short hair and the gold shimmer of the earring. Dipping his head down, Drew took the tiny hoop in his mouth, moving it around with his tongue. Flicking the cool metal until it was warmed with his saliva.

The man’s moans were sharp and short gasps.

“Fuck, wait.”

Drew pulled back a little and eyed the man. He raised an eyebrow, wondering why the man would tell them to wait.

The man squirmed at little and shifted to the side. “The fucking toilet paper thing is stabbing my ass.”

Drew chuckled, eyes shimmering. He moved the man a few inches to the side so the toilet paper dispenser wasn't right behind him. Then they started making out again.

The man started to buck his hips into Drew until it became too much. Drew unzipped the other man first, digging through the pants and boxers to grasp hold of a hot hard dick. It felt nice and heavy in his hand. He pumped it slow, eliciting a sweet low groan. Then Drew took his own dick out with his free hand.

He jerked both hard lengths a few times before the other man took a hold of his hands and pulled them off. Drew looked at him again. What was he-?

The man bit his bottom lip, holding back the devious smirk. He brought Drew's hands closer to his mouth and before Drew could register what the hell was going to happen, the man spit thick in each of Drew's hands.

It was so fucking gross.

And really fucking hot.

Drew growled and took the man's mouth in his, shoving his tongue in forcefully, savoring it's sweetness. His hands were brought back down to the hard dicks and he took them firmly. The spit helped make the pumping a little smoother.

As they continued to makeout, harsh, heavy, and biting, drips of slick precum from each man lubricated Drew's hands, allowing him to move his hands faster. The thump of music from the club muffled their moans and groans and gasps, but Drew still heard them. No music could compare to the sounds this man was making for Drew.

The man he had pinned to the bathroom divider with his body weight, wormed his hands under Drew's dress pants, grabbing his ass, digging his fingers in. The bite of nails in his flesh spurred Drew on.

“Fuck yeah, don't stop,” the man growled. And Drew did not, not even stopping when the body under his shook and cum shot out and ran down his fist. He pumped the man relishing in the shuddering groans the sensitivity created.

Drew wasn't long after, the man sucking and nipping at his neck as he came.

It took them some time to settle their breathing and tuck themselves away. Sharing appreciative looks in the mirror as they washed their hands. The way this man raked his eyes over Drew could make him hard all over again, vibrant blues burning their way down his body.

As they exited the bathroom, he took the man's hand and stopped him. He wanted to kiss him again. The man looked back at him with a sated smirk. “What's up? If you want another round we can at least go back to my place. A lumpy bed is better than the bathroom floor.”

That made Drew blink and tilt his head to the side amused and aroused. This man was everything Drew could ask for. Confident, nasty, handsome and a little crazy. Even so, Drew had no clue why he was so enamored with him. “Not just yet, love”

“At least give me your name first,” the man said to him. He looked so entertained, fidgeting with Drew's fingers in his hand.

“Drew,” he said suddenly realizing he didn't know this man's name but he wanted to dance the night away with him. Or more than just tonight. He was doomed.

The man brought Drew's hand up to his lips and pecked it softly. “Well, Braveheart. I'm Dean.”

“Dean. Dance with me.” it wasn't a question.

They walked back to the dance floor. Drew ignored the stares from his friends as they walked by. He flipped Wade off when he heard him yell, “Did you at least get his name?”

He might just disown his friends. But he won't stop coming to the club. Maybe with the man wagging his bottom on the dance floor like a puppy getting a treat.

Maybe he did like dancing. With Dean at least.

Even if they sucked at it.

 


End file.
